


Away from the flames

by orphan_account



Series: We'll Make Different Mistakes This Time [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-17
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They needed a savior, and what they got was me. And I can’t take it anymore."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End of an Era

**Author's Note:**

> This was written a few months ago, and I've finally gotten around to posting it here and writing the next part. Updates on this will probably be rather sporadic, as this story is rather abstract and more of an intellectual exercise than something I have a serious drive to finish.

He looked up at his kin and smiled rather wetly. “I just wanted you to know before I left. You’ll keep an eye on things at Camelot, won’t you?”  
  
Ancient eyes gazed solemnly down at him and the large mouth, which should have been threatening but was in truth a comforting reminder of days gone by, opened with, “I will see to it that things do not fall to ruin in your absence, Merlin, but I urge you not to do this. Do not walk away from your destiny.”  
  
At this, Merlin shook his head, refusing to be swayed. “There’s nothing there for me anymore, Kilgharrah. Arthur doesn’t need me; Gwen is more than capable of taking care of him and keeping an eye on the knights. I can’t just stay there and hope things will change when I know that they won’t. It’s been years, and even though Arthur is a better king than his father ever was, nothing seems to get better. Not for people like me. I’m so, so tired of fighting a war I know I cannot win. I won’t change my mind, but I will say that I am sorry. I’m sorry I’ve failed you, I’m sorry I’ve failed Arthur, and I’m sorry that I’ve failed others like me; Alator and Gilli and countless others. They needed a savior, and what they got was me. And I can’t take it anymore.”  
  
His mind goes back to the scene which led to this moment, and his heart breaks all over again.  
  
A little boy was brought in because one of the knights, Sir Rheged, caught him doing simple spells to make his baby sister stop crying – silly things, like creating butterflies from their bathwater. Arthur had sent the entire family, which consisted of one widowed mother, four boys, and three girls, all under the age of twelve, into exile. Merlin had looked into the uncompromising eyes of his king and then into the despairing eyes of the poor mother, and he had known it was time.  
  
Arthur’s reign so far had been fair and just in all the ways that mattered; all, save one.  
  
The prophecies spoke of bringing magic back to the land, but Merlin could sense the shifting in the ways of the world. Magic no longer had a place among the courts of men. It belonged now to the places from whence it came: the streams and the mountains and the valleys. He would leave his hopes and dreams behind, along with the love he should never have wished for, and he would start a life there, among the plants and the animals which were his magic’s lifeblood.  
  
If Kilgharrah continued to look upon him with such compassion, it would surely be his undoing. “The world of men loses a precious gift this day. I, too, am sorry young friend.”  
  
Merlin inhaled snottily and swiped at the tears which he had not known were streaming down his face, and he whispered hoarsely, “Goodbye.”  



	2. The World is Quiet Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything slips away.

The air sang a quiescent song of serenity, and the spring green leaves rustled in a soothing whisper from the near-constant soft breeze. Merlin imagined that others might become bored here on the bank of the Lake of Avalon, but the essences of Lancelot and Freya enveloped him and acted as a balm to his ravaged and downtrodden soul, and the land welcomed him with innocent and unqualified joy.

Initially, he was wary of the water. It called to him sweetly on that first day, and he drank. His pain and despair began to fade away with every pull from the liquid in his cupped hands, and he could not even feel alarmed until he finished drinking and backed away, though even the mild concern soon faded as the fluid became a part of him, recognized by his magic as kin and assimilated as a matter of course. Afterward, he lost more and more of his negative emotions each time he sipped, bathed, swam in the Lake, long since beyond the morbidity of immersion with the dead.

If pressed, Merlin could not say how long he had been in his haven, how long ago he spoke with Kilgharrah and then left Camelot for the last time. The passage of time was muddled here, perhaps because of the proximity to the realm of the Sidhe, perhaps because of the mysterious powers of the Lake.

His memories of what led him to this place slipped away one by one, replaced with dreams and visions of the future – a future with flying ships and horseless carriages and magic contained in small shining objects. Through it all, the Lake remained, hidden from the rest of the world; the last stronghold of magic, kept safe by the undying youth who communed with the Lake and the trees and the grass and the fish and the insects and the frogs and the air. This youth knew nothing of Uther and Morgana and the war between the New and Old ways, knew only the Lake and the land surrounding it. In brief moments of lucidity, Merlin wondered why a part of him – a small, muted part, easily subdued and ignored – recoiled from the thought of becoming this youth when his existence would be so pure and beautiful. Then the water lapped at him, and the wan lucidity would pass and be forgotten, along with nearly everything else.

 

 


	3. Things fall apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is changing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am such a cheater. Oh well.

Weeks, months, years later, the visions changed.

Where the images and events passing through his mind’s eye were once a mere account of what was to come, they now carried with them emotions. The youth knew not why he saw the future and labeled his reactions as fearful and anxious, as such things did not exist in the land by the Lake. In the land by the Lake there had only ever been peace, or so the rocks and the blades of grass and the young fox cub whispered to him.

This new foreknowledge sat uncomfortably in his mind, and for the first time in his memory, he felt fretful.

After the shift in his visions, the land by the Lake changed, too.

Poison mixed with the once-pure air, becoming part of the earth and the plants and the Lake itself. He watched the gradual destruction of his home, his entire world, with something his mind identified as horror, and he felt powerless. He continued to commune with his magical oasis, but wondered if he might need to withdraw; what if the visions were what allowed these destructive forces into the Lake and its land? What if he was killing his home?

Try as he might, he could not sever the connection, and he began to despair. This felt familiar somehow, as though he might have once thought, ‘ _Everything I touch turns to ash_ ,’ but that was impossible – all he could remember was living in the land by the Lake.

It started with a shiver of excitement flowing throughout his home, and over and over he heard the plants and the animals and the Lake singing, _‘He has come; He is here._ ’

He felt the new presence before it stepped into sight, before it truly became real. The figure was tall and bright and broad, and breathed, “I’ve found you.”

Had he been lost?


	4. Connectivity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow they will bridge the gap.
> 
> Because they have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may seem kind of confusing because of all the pronouns, but it's going to get better from here, I swear.

Confusion ran through him as swift as the lightning bolts he sometimes saw in his visions, and he enquired urgently, ‘ _Who are you? Why are you here? Do you know me_?’ Without understanding why, he watched as He flinched.

“Don’t you remember me?” Guilt. This must be what it meant to feel guilty for something – but what? He did not know. All he knew was that something he did pained Him.

‘ _No_.’ He was already braced for His reaction, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer agony which passed over His face.

“Merlin…”

‘ _Who_?’

He made a strangled noise, eyes and mouth clenching tightly, before he forced them open and demanded, “You don’t know your own name? Merlin, what happened to you? The Great Dragon told me you were safe here, that you were _happy_. For years it was the only thing that kept me from coming after you and dragging you back. It’s the only thing that could ever convince me to leave you.”

There was a dragon? No, no there was no dragon. Dragons had been dead and gone for… well. For a long time. He shook his head at Him slowly.

“What? Do you not speak? Is that what being here for so long has done to you?”

‘ _Is that… bad_?’ It must have been, though he did not understand why. He had no need of a voice here, could not remember ever having the need. _Did_ he have one?

He shook His golden head. “Never mind that – if we have to, I’m sure we can try sign language later – right now, I need you to come with me.” He held out a hand which trembled from some unnamed emotion. When His companion merely stared with wide, uncomprehending eyes, He pleaded, “Merlin. Come to me. I know there are things I have to make up for – things which you don’t even remember right now, but I need you. There is something coming and I cannot face it alone.”

The flora and fauna and the serene waters of the Lake urged him to accept His outstretched hand, and though uncertainty plagued his mind, he stepped forward to take it. As he felt, for what must be the first time, the skin of another sliding through his own, he breathed in sharply and snapped his eyes up to meet His.

Joy, so much fuller and fiercer than anything felt in this place, overtook His features, and the pleasure of it warmed him swifter and surer than the rays of the sun. He had to know, seeing and feeling such wondrous things, and all because of Him, ‘ _You said my name is Merlin. What is yours_?’

“I’m Arthur.”

 

 


	5. Something Old, Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter for this installment of what will become a series. I think by now it goes without saying that we've moved into the modern era.

Hand in hand he and Arthur walked from the land by the Lake, each taking a long look at the place that had been his home for as long as he could remember. The further they traveled from his little sanctuary, the less connected he felt to the land and the Lake, along with all its inhabitants. He ached with the loss, but knew in places unexplored within himself that he had at one time felt a far greater separation.

Arthur glanced toward him in a manner he supposed he should consider casual, but some instinctual understanding belied any such misconception. “I should probably warn you that even if we find some way to get your memories back…” Arthur paused and frowned over at a perfectly innocent oak tree. “Well. They won’t be any help to you now.”

The continued their journey in silence for several acres after that, and then they emerged from the forest, stepping out onto one of the solid black and yellow rivers he knew from his visions. On one side of discrete yellow lines there was another phantom made real; a large horseless carriage, upon which a dark haired man leaned in a pantomime of carelessness, eyes fixed hungrily upon them as they approached, lingering briefly upon their clasped hands and then flicking back up to their faces.

There were a few more people within the vehicle; four strong, handsome men and one coldly beautiful woman sat with an air of impatience. The figure leaning against the bizarre carriage, ‘ _Why is it bizarre? Does it matter? Is it bizarre? What is bizarre? I **don’t understand** ,_’ sucked in a deep breath and called out, “Took you long enough. Everything alright?” He assumed that the man addressed Arthur, rather than himself. He hoped that was the case, as he felt fairly certain nothing was currently “alright,” but also that admitting such a fact would be… unwelcome. They all – even the woman who strove to be aloof – were so hopeful, and he could not bear to disappoint them.

He felt Arthur squeeze his hand gently. “It will be.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
